By: Ardis E. Parshall - November 06, 2014 My Brother’s and Sister’s Grave By Celia Hall In a quiet recess of the old orchard – thereWhere the branches sway softly o’erhead –Breathing low sounds like the words of a prayer,Or a friend’s subdued sobs for the dead – A low mound of earth and a simple white stoneMark the spot where long, long years agoTwo beautiful children, their pure spirits flown,Were laid ’neath the drear w...
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